


Listen to the radio play all night

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [7]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Flirting, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jukebox Prompt, M/M, POV David Rose, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill, Two soft idiots in love with each other and their store, late night picnic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24910810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: Patrick rolls his eyes. “David, you can’t skip dinner. Come on,” he says, grabbing an assortment of cheeses and crackers and taking them through to the back room. David follows him to see him making a little pile in the middle of the room before grabbing a couple of cushions off one of the shelves and placing them on opposite sides of the makeshift picnic.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569
Comments: 44
Kudos: 277





	Listen to the radio play all night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samwhambam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwhambam/gifts).



> Sam always drops the most irresistible prompts, usuallly when I’m supposed to be writing something else or sleeping. This one was “the first time David and Patrick stay up all night talking”. As always with Jukebox prompts it’s unedited, barely reread, and written on my phone, so apologies for what I’m sure is a multitude of errors.
> 
> Title is from Skillet.

David somehow manages to keep his anxiety about the soft-or-semi-firm opening of Rose Apothecary surprisingly contained... until about 17 hours before the midday Friday launch. He shoos Patrick out the door at dinnertime with assurances that he’ll only be another 20 minutes or so, goes into the back room, and proceeds to pull every single box off the shelves and rearrange them according to colour palette.

Once that’s done, he starts doing the same on the shop floor.

The sharp rapping on the window nearly makes him jump out of his skin. When he looks up he’s surprised to see that it’s pitch dark outside, Patrick silhouetted against the glow of the streetlight with concern etched on his face.

_Busted._ David gestures weakly and Patrick steps inside, locking the door carefully behind him.

“David, it’s nearly eleven,” he says, none of the usual teasing in his tone. “What are you still doing here?”

“The flow wasn’t right,” David mutters. “And I know it’s stupid, I know there are more important things, but the experience customers have is really important to me and I just need this to work, okay?” He crosses his arms defensively, waiting for the acerbic comment he’s sure is coming, but to his surprise Patrick just smiles ruefully at him.

“I have a tab on my spreadsheet for every conceivable thing that could go wrong with the launch — including fire, a freak snowstorm in June, and the entire town being cut off from civilisation,” he says, and David just gapes at him because _what?_ “David, I’m nervous too. Why do you think I was wandering the streets so late? I want this to go well just as much as you do.” He stops, searching David’s face carefully. “Have you eaten?”

David shakes his head. Now Patrick’s mentioned it he can feel a gnawing in his stomach, but the café has already closed for the evening. “I’m okay,” he lies.

Patrick rolls his eyes. “David, you can’t skip dinner. Come on,” he says, grabbing an assortment of cheeses and crackers and taking them through to the back room. David follows him to see him making a little pile in the middle of the room before grabbing a couple of cushions off one of the shelves and placing them on opposite sides of the makeshift picnic.

“What happened to  _ No, we can’t sample all the food, David?” _ He asks, grinning.

Patrick laughs. “I think we can get away with calling this one a team dinner.”

“Well, in that case...” David walks away, returning quickly with a bottle of wine. “To wash it down, you know. Otherwise it’s a choking hazard.”

“What I admire about you, David, is how conscientious you are about health and safety,” Patrick tells him, the serious tone belied by the way his lips quirk up at the corners. David stares at them just a beat too long before he blinks, mentally shaking himself and settling down on one of the cushions.

“Oh shit, corkscrew,” he mutters, but before he can try to stand Patrick is leaning over, some sort of multi-tool in his hand. He has the cork out before David can even blink and then he’s sitting back down, pouring a generous serving into two of the little plastic cups they bought for tomorrow. He hands one to David and holds the other one up, smiling.

“To us,” Patrick says quietly, and it look like his cheeks are flushed but it’s probably just the lighting —  _ oh fuck, the electrician.  _ David makes a mental note to call first thing in the morning.

“To us,” David replies, tapping their glasses together and taking a long gulp. “So, I take it you were a Boy Scout then?”

“Always prepared,” Patrick agrees as he starts slicing the cheese. “I take it you weren’t?”

“That’s an offensive assumption,” he says, but his poker face immediately cracks when Patrick glances up at him, horrified. “Oh my God, no, can you imagine? As soon as a moth came within three feet of me I’d be gone. No, I spent my teenage years in the company of a whole other type of bears.”

It takes Patrick a second; David can almost see the cogs turning in his head. Then he snorts loudly, cracker crumbs flying everywhere as he shakes his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“We had very different formative experiences, I think,” he says. He’s quiet for a moment before adding, voice laced with sincerity: “What was it like, growing up David Rose?”

Normally, this is a question David deflects with a self-deprecating joke or two. But Patrick’s face is earnest and curious and David finds himself wanting to be honest almost despite himself.

“Lonely,” he says quietly. “Really fucking lonely. My parents were always away, and then later Alexis started travelling too and I’d just sit alone in this empty fucking mansion. Or I’d go out, and people would put up with me as long as it was my credit card on the tab or I was providing the fancy drugs, but they made it clear that I was barely tolerable as a person. And I convinced myself that was enough.” He clamps his lips shut before more words can spill out. “God, sorry, that was—“

“Don’t apologise,” Patrick says, voice tight. “David, fuck those people. They didn’t deserve you.”

David blinks. He’s never heard Patrick swear. Not when he dropped a hammer on his foot, not when David accidentally tripled their cologne order. The fact that Patrick is swearing over _him_ makes his stomach twist.

“Well,” he says quickly, “that’s very kind of you.”

“I mean it,” Patrick says fiercely, leaning over and looking David in the eye. “You deserve so much more than that.”

David swallows thickly. “Um, thank you,” he says. A subject change is in order here, before he starts crying. “What about you? Tell me all about high school jock Patrick Brewer.”

Patrick grins, and does. He’s clearly choosing his words carefully, and David’s not sure if he’s trying to not rub his charmed suburban upbringing in David’s face or if there’s another reason, but he doesn’t push.

Patrick’s high school theatre career (Kenickie, not Danny, apparently, but Patrick swears up and down it’s a more fun part anyway) leads them to David’s Gap Kids campaign, which brings up a long story about a pair of lucky baseball socks that is equal parts horrifying and charming, which reminds David of his summer interning for Givenchy, and Patrick counters with a tale of woe regarding being a roadside sign spinner, and on and on they talk until David notices the light start to shift across Patrick’s face.

“Wow,” David whispers when he gets up and pulls the curtain open to see the store bathed in dawn light. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the sun come up while sober before.”

Patrick just looks at him, the silence stretching out comfortably between them. David stares back until he can’t anymore, glancing away and immediately pushing down a ridiculous feeling of loss.

“I should...” he starts, gesturing at the door.

Patrick nods. “I’ll take care of this. You go take a nap, get ready for our semi-firm launch.” He smirks, and David can’t help but huff a laugh.

“Thank you for last night,” he says quietly. “And for today.”

Patrick furrows his brow. “I haven’t done anything today.”

“But you will,” he replies softly. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Patrick.”

Patrick smiles at him. “We make a pretty good team, David Rose,” he says.

David hopes he’s right. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).


End file.
